


Early Morning

by TheFirstMate



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M, i was gonna write proper angst but i wasn't ready, oc stuff - Freeform, so this is just general musings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 02:23:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6637195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFirstMate/pseuds/TheFirstMate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hana doesn't sleep much, the calling has been getting louder for months. Early morning musings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Early Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is the first fanfic I've posted in YEARS and it's not very plot orientated but yeah  
> Hana belongs to Destrachan and you can find stuff about Hana (+amazing art) here: http://destrachan.tumblr.com/tagged/ocs

Sometimes, the calling is so loud that he is surprised it doesn't wake Zevran up. The mornings in Antiva City are always quiet, the sun barely peaking up from behind the skyline yet giving enough soft light to make it feel okay to be up so early. The room Hana and Zevran currently occupy is small, but the large windows facing east onto the roof of the apartment below them makes it appear more open, preferable to all the times they have had to hide out in a stuffy, windowless shanties in the outer city. He is sat with his legs dangling out of the open window now, his head resting against the side of frame, he closes his eyes tight, attempting to shut out the sound of the song in his head. He knows it won't help. 

Still, the warm sunlight on his face makes him smile, despite the tears forming under his eyelids. He likes it here. They've been in the same place for some months now; near the docks. He likes to watch the sails go past in the near distance, sometimes when he can't concentrate on anything else, when Zevran is out doing a job by himself, he imagines stories, the lives of the sailors on the ships. The captain on the gigantic war ship, he shouts at his crew but he always let's them stay an extra day in port, because it makes them happy. Or the small fishing boat, where maybe the deckhand dreams of travelling to Orlais to become a world famous bard, she practices her singing at night, and a young prostitute always stops to listen, falling just a little bit more in love each night. 

He knows this doesn't help either. Not in the long run. The calling is always there, in the back of his mind or screaming in his ear, but there is some comfort in the fact that the world will go on without him when he dies, that people will still love and dream and hope even if he's not there to imagine it. He's glad that this is where he'll have his last memories of being alive, of being with Zevran and being happy. He'd managed to fill their small space with so much life in the few months they'd been here. It started off with a sprig of elfroot he's accidently torn up when they'd travelled into the countryside to off a landlord who'd refused to pledge loyalty to some noble or another. He'd been so close to tears that Zevran had laughed, taken a small ceramic pot from the landlord's house, filled it with soil and placed the tiny, common plant inside it. He had kissed Hana's forehead as he placed the pot in the middle of the tiny table that had come with the room, and from there the collection had only grown. Zevran complained sometimes, that it wouldn't be an assassin or the taint that killed either of them, but tripping over a plant and falling out of the window onto the cobbled streets below. Even so, more often than not it was him that bought back additions to their collection; a pond flower from the palace gardens, a handful of moss from the roof of the chantry, or an exotic flower from the world famous Antivan markets. And every time, he'd squeeze it into their small space with a smile or a chuckle, and always with a kiss for Hana.

He was crying now, he realised, as he opened his eyes and looked at the cracked pot holding that little piece of elfroot. He hopes that Zevran will remember to water it after he's gone, it gets so hot in Antiva during the day. There were so many things that Hana wanted to remind him to do. Eat regularly, look after your wounds, clean the apartment every now and again, close the windows when you go out for the day, make the bed maybe. Little things, that Zevran had never even considered doing before him and Hana left Fereldan together four years ago. Hana had to keep reminding himself that Zevran had managed to survive long before they met, and would continue to live long after he was gone. He truly believed that, but his cheeks were still wet, cool under the suns increasing heat. How long had he been sitting here now? Behind him the light sheets rustled as Zevran stretched out, still asleep. They needed nothing more than a thin sheet during the hot Antivan summers, and said sheet was currently tangled around Zevran's legs, half hanging off the foot of the small bed they shared. He was lying on his side, one arm extended under his head, underneath a pillow, his hand visible in a semi fist. His long hair was loose, obscuring the tattoos on his face and catching on his lips, his other arm he kept curled up next to his chest, he looked vulnerable now, whenever he slept really. It only made Hana more certain in what he was going to do. 

He couldn't tell him about the calling, how it had been getting louder for months now, how he would have to leave soon, and go to the deep roads. He couldn't tell him because he would come too. He would come with him and he would die down there, in the dark, in pain, ripped to pieces by darkspawn. Hana had made his choice, he had chosen to become a Grey Warden, but Zevran had not, and he shouldn't have to die like one. Hana would leave, and he'd write a letter, and Zevran would know he was loved and he would carry on living. He'd started writing the letter a thousand times, but he hadn't gotten it quite right yet. He would though, he would and he would leave while Zevran was out. That was his plan, and that was what he would do. But for now...

For now he would love through the pain and smile through the noise and heal through his taint.   
He rose from his seat at the window and picked his way through the multitude of plants back to the bed, and in the bright light of morning, for the sun was far above the sails and buildings now, he could forget about all the monsters that clamoured for attention in his mind. As he lay down Zevran smiled, and with his eyed still closed he put his arm around Hana, and Hana smiled too, and wiped away his tears. He would have to leave, but for now this was all that he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to Charlie for letting me butcher your oc, I hope I didn't murder him completely!  
> If anyone wants me to write anything for them just shoot me a comment here or a message I wanna get back into writing so yeah just request away if you liked this!


End file.
